Y451
by FlameImmortal
Summary: UPDATED 7/25/03 A new drug is about to run loose... Unless Xander and a new partner can stop it, not to mention saving themselves in the process.
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer : Don't own 'em, but I sure as hell wouldn't mind have a little Vin Diesel of my own someday. . .  
  
Dedication : This story is dedicated to Nicholas  
  
Author's Note : This is my first Triple X fanfic, but I have written for other subjects. I loved the movie (of course, I don't think anybody reading this didn't. . . lol ) I know that this subject has probably been done to death, but I'd like to have a shot at it. I hope that everybody likes this and I would definitely enjoy some reviews (good or bad) with some constructive criticisms because I know there's plenty of stuff I could improve upon. I'm trying to keep the grammar as well done as possible but I'm a far cry from perfection in that area, so I'll apologize ahead of time. Anyway, you don't want to listen to me, so I'll shut up and let you read. ;)  
  
Synopsis : The one and only Xander Cage is assigned a new partner. Only problem is, she's green as hell and determined to prove that she can tough it out with the big dogs. And it looks like she's about to wash out, but when something major goes wrong, it's up to her to finish the job. . . and save her new partner.  
  
TITLE : Y451  
  
BY : FLAMEIMMORTAL  
  
PROLOGUE-CHAPTER TWO  
  
PROLOGUE  
  
The morning air was crisp and cool as Xander Cage made his way slowly toward the large, white marble stone steps leading toward the entrance to the current NSA HQ. He blew air through his lips absently, watching it crystallize instantly before him in a hazy gray cloud before shrugging deeper into his worn leather jacket and heading for the door.  
  
Greeted only by the ever-somber gaze of the black-suit clad agents that served more as guards than anything else. With a short nod of acknowledgement in their direction, he proceeded into the building, already bustling with activity even though the time was still so early. He almost cringed at the thought of movement at this point in the day, but when Gibbons called. Gibbons called. Incessantly. If there was anything he could say about that man, he never gave the fuck up.  
  
Stifling a yawn and rubbing at the back of his neck with one hand, he pushed open the plain oak-wooden door, not bothering to knock.  
  
"It's early, Gibbons. The fuck do you want?" he questioned immediately upon gaining entry, not waiting for greeting or an affirmative. He leaned back against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest.  
  
"Close the door, X," Gibbons instructed, rolling his eyes in mock exasperation.  
  
Xander kicked the door closed with the back of his heel and looked up expectantly for a reply.  
  
"You're not going to like this," Gibbons continued without premise. "But you *are* going to deal with it."  
  
"I don't like the sound of that, Scarface," Xander replied, glaring at the man sitting so stoically in the leather seated office chair. He damned the man his composure this early in the damn morning. Another point to Gibbons, but he'd never tell him that.  
  
"I knew you wouldn't," Gibbons answered, leaning forward slightly and reaching into a filing cabinet built into the side of the paper strewn desk. He withdrew a single yellow file folder, thin and fresh, and tossed it onto the edge of the test, sliding an inch or so to stop just short of falling over the edge.  
  
"Hell is that?"  
  
"Open it up and find out," Gibbons said, reclining back in the chair with his hands folded in his lap. "That's your new assignment."  
  
Hesitating only a moment, Xander retrieved the folder and flipped it out with a finger, leafing through the few papers inside. On the top lay a color photo, recently taken according to the date stamped in red photographers ink on the bottom white edge. The photograph showed a young woman, relatively attractive, auburn hair mixed with brown and black, cut off short below her ear. She had an intelligent countenance, not brainy, but not dumb either. She had emerald eyes, or at least from what he could tell through the red-eye in the picture.  
  
Paperclipped to the picture was brief job history, as well as family names, current and past residences, all the 'need to know' information that the NSA so promptly boasted.  
  
"Who is she?" Xander asked pointedly, the folder closed and held in one hand.  
  
"Her name is Ariana Lorraine Versailles, if you'd read it at the top of the page," Gibbons answered matter of factly. "And," he added when Xander didn't speak. "She's your new partner."  
  
CHAPTER ONE  
  
"I work alone, Gibbons," Xander insisted, leaning forward with his hands pressed on the flat surface of Gibbon's desk. "That's it, just me. Solo. Numero Uno. You got that?"  
  
"Oh, I get it just fine, X. But today you work with Agent Versailles."  
  
"I don't believe this. First you drag me out of the goddamn bed at three o'clock in the fucking morning and now you're telling me I can't work solo anymore? What is this, Gibbons?" Xander fumed, half restraining himself from kicking the desk in frustration.  
  
Gibbons quietly let him finish ranting before continuing, calm as ever. "Frankly, Triple X, I don't care. As hard as that must be for you to understand."  
  
"Oh yeah, I know," Xander muttered, shoving his hands into his pockets forcefully. "She's green, Gibbons. I'm not a baby-sitter. And I'm not some James Bond 'Agent Maker,' okay?"  
  
"She's already had the best training the government can give her, Xander. She graduated at the top of her class. She scored the highest in every field simulation that we have. She's the best in training, X."  
  
"Training is a lot different than the field, Gibbons. And you don't need me to tell you that!" Xander half shouted at him, throwing the damned folder back on the desk and staring at it like it was some vile creature sprouting right there in the midst of a stack of paperwork. "Why the hell did you pick me for this? Is this some punishment? Did I screw up an assignment and you're getting back at me, what?"  
  
"No discussion, Triple X. She's part of your job now. Maybe you'll like her. I seem to recall you being a big fan of ladies, right X?"  
  
"Oh, fu-"  
  
"Mr. Gibbons?"  
  
Xander whirled around at the sound of the new voice. The newcomer raised his hands in submission and Xander moved out of the way, letting him talk to Gibbons.  
  
"Uh, Sir, Ms. Versailles is waiting in the lobby. . ." the man said hesitantly, looking at Xander with some reluctance.  
  
"Very good, Mr. Sandford, we'll be out to meet her in just a moment," Gibbons returned with a smile.  
  
Apparently as satisfied as he was going to get, Sandford retreated from the room, closing the door behind him.  
  
"I'm not doing this, Gibbons."  
  
"You don't have a choice, Xander," Gibbons said simply, standing up and leisurely making his way around the desk and toward the door. "After you, X."  
  
Xander glared at the older man, opening the door and slamming it behind the both of them, the frame rattling.  
  
"If that's broken, it's coming out of your paycheck," Gibbons said under his breath, resulting in another glare from Xander. "Ms. Versailles?" he called.  
  
A woman standing near the door turned her head, capped with a denim baseball hat. Xander appraised the woman quickly as she walked toward them, a slight sway to her hips. She wore a pair black, loose fitting khaki pants and forest green knit sweater over a black cotton turtleneck. She definitely had some curves to her, he noticed first off. But she hid too much of them, he mused silently.  
  
She looked up at them, emerald eyes just like he'd thought from the photo. Grinning from ear to ear, she practically bounced toward the two.  
  
"Way too eager," Xander muttered shortly, frowning. "Too damn early in the morning. . ."  
  
"Welcome to the real NSA," Gibbons said, shaking her extended hand and nodding toward Xander. "This is Xander Cage, your new partner."  
  
"It's great to meet you, Mr. Gibbons," Ariana said, a slight shaking entering her voice. With what seemed like a practiced effort, she took a deep breath to steady it. "I'm Ariana, most people just call me Ari though," she said, offering a hand to Xander, who just looked at her. "Well, uh, okay. . ." Ari said slowly, biting her lip but pressing on anyway. "Well, it's great to meet you, anyway. I mean, you're *the* Xander Cage. I can hardly believe they partnered me with you. It really is an honor. You're. . . something of a legend among the trainees."  
  
"Yeah, ditto," Xander replied, hands stuffed into his pockets.  
  
Ari looked at him with wide eyes, maybe a little surprised and disappointed at the same time.  
  
No one said anything for several long moments, and Gibbons finally broke the awkward silence. "Go the briefing room and get acquainted. I'll be there in a few minutes with the rest of your mission."  
  
* * *  
  
Sitting in the briefing room, Ari watched Xander intently from across the large round table, her fingers tapping the metal tabletop lightly. They'd been sitting there for almost fifteen minutes and he hadn't said so much as three words to her the since she'd first walked in the door.  
  
"Um. . ." she said lamely, just desperate for a little sound in the silence. "Gibbons said we should get acquainted so." Ari let the words hang, eyebrows raised in hopes he'd fill something in. "Guess you're not a morning person."  
  
"Something like that," he answered, not bothering to look in her direction.  
  
Anger suddenly swelled up inside her and she stamped her foot on the ground. He glanced at her, eyes narrowed in marginal surprise. She crossed her arms over her chest and leaned back sullenly in the chair. This wasn't exactly what she'd pictured of her first day on the job. Nor was this how she'd imagined the infamous Xander Cage. Her excitement had dwindled to almost nothing and she stood up, pacing the room for lack of anything else to do.  
  
After a span of about three minutes, he leaned back in his chair and cracked his knuckles, eyes following her even movements. "Would you *please* stop that?" he snapped.  
  
"So he does speak!" she exclaimed in mock surprise. "I was beginning to think you were mute! What the hell is your problem? This goes way beyond 'not being a morning person'!"  
  
He stared at her, a little surprised by her sudden outburst. A little impressed, actually.  
  
"What? What's wrong with me? Is it because I'm a woman, because I've got new for you, women have done far more than men could ever dream of in this-"  
  
"It's not because you're a woman, okay? I'm not that sexist," Xander replied, resting his elbows on the table.  
  
"Then what, huh?"  
  
"Number one: I don't work with partners. Number two: you're green," he explained as if it were as simply as day and night.  
  
"I'm not green!" she shouted, taking a threatening step toward him and suddenly thinking better of it, but not backing down. "I finished in the top of my class! I got the highest awards in all of the field exercises. . ."  
  
"But you don't know shit about what's really out there."  
  
That one stopped her dead in her tracks. She stared at him like he'd slapped her for about three seconds before balling her hands into fists at her sides indignantly. "I can't believe you. I can't fucking believe you! You of all people won't give the new guy a chance! Ha!"  
  
"I read your file, too, Agent Cage!" Ari ranted. "Your first mission they picked you out of a bunch of drunken idiots!"  
  
"They picked me because I had whatever the hell they were looking for. I got the job done."  
  
"And what makes you think I can't?" Ari hissed, staring him down as best she could. She was going to show him what she was made of one way or another.  
  
"Look, I'm not saying you won't be good at this. . . after some real field work. But I don't have the time to look after you, do you understand? I didn't ask for this job, I didn't ask for any of this, but here I am and here you are. I've got a job to do, and I'll do it. I can't have people in the way of that."  
  
"Bullshit."  
  
"What was that?"  
  
"Nothing," Ari muttered, turning her back on him. "I don't care what you think, I can do this job. It's what I've been trained to do. I didn't choose you either, but like it or not, we're stuck together so I guess we'd better get used to it."  
  
He sighed, rubbed at the bridge of his nose with his index finger and thumb. "Too fucking early in the morning for this shit. . . "  
  
CHAPTER TWO  
  
"This," Gibbons said, dropping two thick white filing folders onto the round metal table and looking hard at each of them, "Is your mission."  
  
"Should we choose to accept it. . . " Xander muttered under his breath, quoting the old television show absently. Ariana glanced in his direction quickly as he flipped the folder open, following suit soon after.  
  
Gibbons stood at the end of the square room, Xander and Ari seated beside each other across the table from three other suited agents, the other three already well prepared and waiting the rest of the mission briefing.  
  
Ari shifted in her seat uncomfortably, still not yet used to the mix of formality with. . . her unorthodox partner. She could already tell that this wouldn't be a usual mission by any standards if only because of his sporadic actions.  
  
Gibbons nodded to one of the agents, the one in the center of the three, who immediately took up the silence left by his superior.  
  
"Frankly, we're looking for a mole," the agent said simply, waving on hand toward the folder for emphasis.  
  
Xander looked up, reading the nametag dangling precariously from a metal clip on his shirt-sleeve. The name read in bold, Arial print 'Phillipe J. Hernandez.' Xander lifted the first set of papers in the folder, revealing several apparently candid photographs of at least ten men, each with a matching profile containing whatever information they had chosen to provide for them. He thumbed through the pictures, paying close attention to the names and instantly committing the faces to memory.  
  
"The first one," Hernandez was saying, "Is Jonathan Carletti. He used to be a heavy hitter for the mob, now he works for our big dog out here."  
  
"Where is this?" Ari questioned, sitting forward in her seat and flipping through the photos herself.  
  
"Actually, it's underground, but," one of the other agents supplied.  
  
"But I'll get to that in just a moment," Hernandez continued without further notice. "He's basically a body guard, but a formidable enemy-at least I wouldn't want to run into him in a dark alley, and I was in the marines for the better part of my career. One bad-ass son of a bitch, but as long as you dodge security, and that shouldn't be too much of a problem, then you won't have to deal with him on a regular basis."  
  
"The next photo is of one Coleman Schaffer."  
  
Xander flipped to the next picture in line, taken in what looked like a warehouse of some sort, boxes and crates lying all over the place in the background. Schaffer had a thick head of dusty blonde hair and near black eyes. The man was tall, muscled, but not to the point of looking all that threatening.  
  
"He's our 'big dog,' if you excuse the phrase," Hernandez informed the group, standing up and walking as he spoke. "Schaffer is basically a drug runner as far as the public knows. And most of the public has heard of him. His dealings are no secret, not even to the police, but there isn't anything on him. However, we're not looking at him because of drug trafficking. The NSA could care less about cocaine and heroin from guys like these. Coleman has recently discovered something new that are interested in." Hernandez shot a look over his shoulder at the agent that had been sitting to his left-Marcus Collins by the name tag-and the agent pushed a button on a small handheld remote. After a few seconds, a light projector in the corner reacted, spraying a lighted square over the wall before them.  
  
As Hernandez continued talking, all eyes flicked toward the screen as a large picture showed a single glass tube lying on its side on what appeared to be a laboratory counter. The glass was a scientist's test tube, corked off at the top and filled within an inch of the rim with a thick liquid, colored a deep blue.  
  
"They're calling it Y451," Hernandez explained, leaning back against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest, absently fingering his thin mustache with one hand. "It's new and experimental."  
  
"All our favorite characteristics. . . aren't they all?" Xander quipped, watching as the next slide clicked into place.  
  
With a grunt, Hernandez gave a short laugh. "Sure," he said nonchalantly. "We're still not sure exactly how Y451 is being produced, but we do know that it is to be a key factor in the assassination of this woman."  
  
The newest slide showed a close-up glamour shot of a woman in her mid- thirties with a thin face and high cheekbones. The woman had black hair cut short above her shoulders, tucked neatly behind her ears. In the picture she had on clearly too much makeup, and definitely not her color lipstick, looking more like an older woman trying to regain her youth than a natural picture.  
  
"This is Ileitha MacPherson. She used to be one of Schaffer's best men, or, women, that is. She was his top priority in just about every aspect of the word. But he wouldn't let her in on the Y451 project because Schaffer is apparently tight-lipped about everything coming and going so long as it has anything to do with 'business.' She left him and he's out to get her because she's the only other person who had access to any of his accounts and who knows how he works.  
  
"She's been under NSA supervision for about three weeks now. The government has given her immunity so long as she stays cooperative. She's really our only true vital link to the inside of his organization."  
  
"What about all these other people?" Ari asked, holding up one of the photos. "They're listed as agents, why do you suspect them?"  
  
"We've lost three agents in the last week and a half," Collins answered. Ari turned her head to look at him, waiting for further explanation. "And some inside information has spread to Schaffer, we know it. But there are still four more agents in place down there and way things are going down. . . We're fairly certain that this is an inside job."  
  
"What about this drug?" Xander questioned, speaking for the first time in a while. "What else is he planning on doing with it?"  
  
"At first we thought he intended to sell it on the streets," Hernandez replied. "But Schaffer has sold out to the rest of the company. Schaffer is small time compared to most of the other drug organizations in the United States. We think he's going to sell the drug out the highest bidder. Most of these people have nation-wide access. They'll be spreading it throughout both the United States and Europe."  
  
"What's it do?" Ari inquired.  
  
Collins clicked the remote again, changing the slides to show a small collage of pictures. "These are the stages of the drug," he explained. "It starts out with mild delirium, the progressed onto the higher levels of the 'high.' That's only on a minimum dosage, though. Higher amounts can result in a heart rate increased to extremely dangerous levels in a matter of seconds, and high fevers can accompany a strong sense of delirium. Those under the influence of Y451 couldn't tell you their own name after about thirty seconds of shooting up. An overdose can kill in about three minutes. But even the first dose is a slow poison. It's not like shooting up once in a while, get the high and move one. You don't even have to get addicted to it. Y451 doesn't leave the bloodstream. Ever. Unless specifically used with an 'antidote' of sorts, it slowly poisons the blood and causes a very painful death."  
  
"Sounds like fun," Xander commented sarcastically.  
  
"How. . . were the other agents killed?" Ari asked tentatively, glancing up at the photographs with a look of disgust crossing her fair features.  
  
Gibbons took the remote from Collins and clicked to the next slide, showing several dead bodies, all grotesquely disfigured and still oozing blood, the flesh burnt and charred, sliced open until not a single shred remained recognizable. "That's after being injected with Y451," Gibbons said solemnly, meeting first her eyes and then Xander's intent gaze. "Now it's your job to replace them."  
  
* * *  
  
TO BE CONTINUED. . .  
  
4/15/03  
  
Author's Note : Well, what did you think? That's the first three chapters and I've already started working on the next set. I'll post them up soon if anybody likes this story. . . Hopefully it doesn't suck too much. I know there hasn't been much action yet, but I've got one hell of a plan for later on in this one;) And there'll be plenty of action. Unfortunately, I tend to get a little violent in my action sequences, so. . . Fair warning. lol  
  
Don't forget, Read & Review!  
  
Thanks,  
  
-FlameImmortal- 


	2. Chapter 1

Disclaimer : ** See [Default Chapter] Page **  
  
Rating : R  
  
* * *  
  
TITLE : Y451  
  
BY: FLAMEIMMORTAL  
  
CHAPTERS THREE-FOUR  
  
* * *  
  
CHAPTER THREE  
  
Ari looked at them with wide eyes, taking a deep breath and swallowing the lump that had suddenly materialized in her throat.  
  
"What about that underground thing?" Xander questioned, nodding toward Collins, who'd posed the subject toward them originally.  
  
"The Base, as it has so been named by Schaffer and his acquaintances," Hernandez informed them, "is something of an anomaly to us as well."  
  
"Didn't you get any information from the other agents?" Xander asked, leaning forward and resting his arms on the tabletop.  
  
"Of course we did," Hernandez replied rather indignantly, eyes narrowed as he watched Xander reproachfully. "We have the layout of the Base's entire complex, as well as a subsystem built beneath it. The entire complex is comprised of a metal alloy, stronger than steel and virtually radar proof." Before the agents had time to inquire upon that particular topic, Hernandez continued. "Our agents had been sending us information on the structure steadily throughout their entire time inside. It took us nearly a year to get them close enough to Schaffer to even gain entrance to the complex. They've only been inside for about a month and a half. Now, two weeks ago, we lost all contact with all the agents. We weren't sure whether this meant discovery or. . . something else.  
  
"Then suddenly three of ours wind up in the middle of the James River down in Virginia. With a note, to beat all." Hernandez nodded to Collins, and another slide clicked into place.  
  
It showed a worn piece of brown paper, torn on the edges and mottled with water stains from the murky water. In bold, black ink and capital letters, the note read :  
  
" TO HE WHO COME FOR WATERS DEEP  
  
LAY THEE NOW THY SOUL TO SLEEP  
  
FOR WHEN HE SHOULD HAZARD DANGERS AFAR  
  
MEET HE THEN THE DRAGONS OF CZAR "  
  
"Guess they were serious about their 'stay the hell out' policy," Ari muttered softly under her breath, shaking her head at the message's clearly indicated tone. "But about the 'Dragons of Czar'? What does that mean?"  
  
"We're hoping you'll be able to figure that out, too," Collins supplied.  
  
"Whose handwriting is it?" Xander asked. "I mean, it's not cutouts or anything, can't they analyze that shit or something?"  
  
"Our best bet is that it belongs to Schaffer or Carletti," Hernandez replied.  
  
"So this place is located in Virginia? Isn't that a little far off for drug traffickers?" Ari inquired, still staring at the photograph of the ragged note, eyes darkened in deep thought.  
  
"It's located directly beneath the city of Richmond," Collins stated, reclining in the hard chairs with his hands resting in his lap as he looked at them. "And actually it's a fairly decent location for him. He may not make quite as much money as he would in New York City or even Los Angeles, but Richmond is a city nonetheless with its fair share of drug addicts and the like. And he doesn't have to worry about stepping on anybody's toes by getting in on a bigger deal. He makes enough money down there to sustain him, and with Y451. . ." Collins shook his head. "He'll have it made financially as soon as he makes the deal."  
  
"You will, however," Hernandez interjected, "Have to make sure that nothing happens to Ileitha MacPherson. She will remain under NSA protection until Schaffer is taken care of and with hope, all chemicals disposed of. Based on the last correspondence from our remaining agents, we believe that Ms. MacPherson is still very much one of Schaffer's major targets after this goes down."  
  
"When do we start?" Ari asked, looking up at Gibbons and trying her best to stay calm despite the butterflies in her stomach. She was beginning to wonder if she was ready for this. . . She took a deep breath, determined. She could do this. She *would* do this."  
  
CHAPTER FOUR  
  
"Jen, I don't know if I can do this," Ari said into the small telephone receiver, running a hand absently through her short-cropped hair. She sat at the head of the short double bed Gibbons had provided for her in the generic room, her back propped up against the headboard. Staring into the mirror placed directly across the room on the opposite wall, she shook her head. "I'm not sure I'm cut out for this. . ."  
  
"C'mon, Ari!" the woman on other end of the telephone replied energetically. "Do you even remember all this shit you did in training? I mean, you're the best, Ari! Look who you're working with!"  
  
"I know all that, Jenny," Ari responded, closing her eyes and sighing. "It just doesn't seem like the same. It's all so different than the training. This is. . . real."  
  
"The day Ariana Versailles finds something she can't do is the day I declare myself the Easter bunny," Jenny laughed.  
  
Ari smiled despite herself, giggling slightly at her friend's words.  
  
"But you gotta tell me," Jenny insisted, her tone low in mock seriousness. "Is he hot?"  
  
"Is who hot?"  
  
"Ari, please!" Jenny pleaded, laughing all the while. "You know, *Xander Cage*! I mean I've seen pictures before, but in person. . . !"  
  
"Well. . ." Ari trailed off, crossing her ankles and stretching on the bed. "Maybe a little hot."  
  
"A little! Damn, are you picky all of a sudden! I'd like to see that man in boxers!" Jenny exclaimed.  
  
Ari almost choked on her laughter at the picture.  
  
"Don't tell me you haven't thought about it?" Jenny inquired. "I know you have, Ari. I know you better than yourself."  
  
"Maybe, but nobody else needs to know that," Ari admitted quietly, glancing at the door as if somebody might be listening in. "Oh, hey, I gotta go, Jen. Gibbons only gave us till tomorrow morning and it's almost. . ." she glanced at the clock resting silently on the bedside table. "Ten o'clock now. I'd better get some sleep."  
  
"Just don't get lonely," Jenny replied, and Ari could almost see the look on her friend's face.  
  
"Very funny, Jen."  
  
"See you soon, Ari," Jenny answered.  
  
Ari said good night and hung up on the phone, the smile still playing at her lips. Maybe she could handle this. And just maybe she'd earn some respect from her partner in the process.  
  
* * *  
  
Xander lay on his stomach on the bed in his own room, head resting sideways on his arms. He stared at the clock on the dresser, watching the large, red digital letters change after each minute, counting the seconds. He'd have to get some sleep eventually if he were going to have any success in getting up the next morning.  
  
But sleep seemed to be the one thing evading him at the moment. The only release he had from the tedious role he played in the NSA. Gibbons had finally given him a vacation-a real vacation-after his last mission, but it hadn't been something for him to enjoy.  
  
Working kept his mind focused, kept it away from. . . from the wandering thoughts that so often plagued his dreams. He didn't know what he would do about Versailles. Gibbons knew, Gibbons fucking knew how he felt about working with a partner. Too often they could get in the way, could be compromised.  
  
And partners die.  
  
The thought crossed his mind almost of its own accord, and he pushed it back with a now familiar and practiced measure.  
  
He could still see so clearly the first 'mission' Gibbons had ever sent him on. He remembered all the details from that waitress in heels to scratchy permanent marker that had streaked the word AHAB across the side of a chemical weapon in the middle of Prague. He still remembered her face that night in the alley when she'd thought he'd killed that Czech Five-Oh cop. That first kiss in the midst of the swaying music in Yorgi's club. That night in Bora Bora.  
  
The blood that streaked her face as her deep eyes clouded over in death. The image of her murderer reflected in her glazed orbs.  
  
"Goddamnit," he hissed, grabbing the pillow at the top of the bed roughly and flinging it across the room to hit the wall with a harmless 'thump.' He rolled over onto his back, one hand hanging limply over the edge of the bed, staring blankly at the ceiling.  
  
The warm wetness of salty tears stung the corners of his eyes, and he wiped at them with the back of his hand, cursing his own weakness. He didn't have time for this, he had to think. He had to focus for what was coming.  
  
But fuck it all, why did she have to stay? She could have had anyone she wanted, anyone but him. Even before Gibbons his life hadn't been anything but a shot of adrenaline. Dangerous in its own right and illegal in just about every respect. Yelena wanted out of the world she'd been trapped in for so long, and he hadn't been able to take her away from it.  
  
She didn't want his life, she didn't want any more of the excitement and danger that came with it. He couldn't let go. He couldn't leave behind that danger and excitement. . . It was all he knew, all he'd ever had. It was his life. And now it was her death.  
  
She stayed for him, no one else. Just him. Now she didn't have a choice. They'd taken her away, too.  
  
Now he was here. . . And he'd be damned if he was going to lose another one. He'd be damned if he'd let them do it again. Versailles was like a fucking kid. Just a fucking kid trying to grow up way too soon for her own good. She didn't need to go through that stage of her life with him.  
  
He flipped back onto his stomach, closing his eyes wearily and trying to block out the world. If he couldn't focus then they could all end up getting killed. He'd already seen enough death for a lifetime.  
  
Fuck the world. He almost didn't care anymore. Almost. Her image followed him everywhere. Guys like him weren't supposed to fall in love. And girls like her weren't supposed to love him back.  
  
She would never leave him, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't forget. Every time he closed his eyes, there she was, smiling back at him. Only to be replaced with the frighteningly empty gaze that marked a grim death. Her last words still rung through his mind as fresh as though they had been spoken mere moments ago.  
  
** "Hold onto me, X. . . It's not cold anymore, Xander. They're calling me. . ." One arm weakly reached outward toward a vision only she could see, blood staining her pale skin, covering her body in a warm, sticky blanket of pain-filled existence. "It's. . . so warm. . . there. . ." she whispered, her voice fading with each syllable, her body already failing her. "We are safe now. . . in the light. . . my. . . love. . ." **  
  
* * *  
  
"I'm not second guessing you, Gibbons," Hernandez said dryly, sitting across from Gibbons in the small office.  
  
Gibbons looked at Hernandez with raised eyebrows, leaning back in his office chair and patiently waiting for the man to continue.  
  
"But I'm not sure he's ready to be back out in the field yet," Hernandez finished, arms crossed lightly over his chest as his eyes narrowed in thoughts. "You know as well as anybody else that Yelena's death hit him pretty hard, Gibs. And sure, he's an agent and all that, he knows the drill. . . But I think it takes more than a few weeks on some sandy beach to get over something like that."  
  
"He can take it, Hernandez," Gibbons answered, appraising the other agent slowly, glancing down at the papers strewn about his desk. "He's going to have to get over it sometime."  
  
"I'm just saying it's not that easy, is all," Hernandez replied. "Hell, Gibbons, he was downright suicidal after that incident. The way she was killed. . . and right there in front of him. That's not something anyone could just forget."  
  
"He has a job to do," Gibbons insisted quietly. "And Versailles will be there."  
  
Hernandez sighed, blew air through his lips as he rolled the words over in his mind. "I'm not sure he's in the state of mind to look out for her."  
  
"She'll learn."  
  
"And he's heading straight through depression and into the crash zone."  
  
"He'll deal," Gibbons said simply, giving Hernandez a knowing look.  
  
Hernandez shook his head and returned Gibbons' intense gaze with his own. "I know you care, Gibbons-I know you do, no matter how you portray yourself. And I also know that you've always got something in mind even when I think it's crazy as shit. But eventually he's going to crash, and he's gonna crash hard. I just hope he gets through this assignment before it happens."  
  
Gibbons watched as Hernandez stood, dropped his hands in his coat pockets and stepped out of the office. Left alone to think in the silence, Gibbons furrowed his brow, fingers tapping lightly on the oaken desktop. Things would work out. Fate left no other choice.  
  
* * *  
  
TO BE CONTINUED. . .  
  
Author's Notes : Okay, say there's a little drama in this section. (I'm a sucker for a good dramatic piece, usually the more depressing the better.) This one is a little shorter than the first post, but I was itching to put up the next part:D And I'm already started working on the next updates with plenty of ideas for the rest of this story! I hope that you like this, and don't worry, we're going to get into some action before long. I had to get all the introductions and necessary background information for the plot underway. lol But, anyways, as always, read and review, I'm always glad for some help/ideas/whatever else you can think of!  
  
Don't forget, Read & Review!  
  
Thanks,  
  
-FlameImmortal- 


	3. Chapter 2

Disclaimer : ** [Default Chapter] Page **  
  
Rating : R  
  
TITLE: Y451  
  
BY: FLAMEIMMORTAL  
  
CHAPTERS FIVE-SEVEN  
  
* * * CHAPTER FIVE  
  
Morning found them sooner than any of them would have liked. The first traces of the sun had barely risen over the horizon as a small group of people made their way slowly across the small airport toward a lone jet, small and sleek and deadly in its own capacity.  
  
Moving with feeling of lethargy left by too little sleep, Ari stifled a yawn and took in her surroundings. She attempted not to appear apprehensive about what was to come, but the butterflies still remained.  
  
Her eyes drifted idly toward her partner, silently trudging along beside herself. Gibbons accompanied them, as she had been told was usual procedure, and Collins and Hernandez were there as well. Xander's silence unsettled her for some reason, though she wasn't quite sure why. She was a nervous talker, and she could ramble on for hours when the feeling overtook her, but in this particular instance she chose to bite her tongue.  
  
She was dressed casually; a pair of faded blue jeans, just a bit too long for her, and baggy pull-over green sweater with a black t-shirt underneath. Covering her head was a denim baseball cap. Her partner was dressed in similarly casual clothes, though a little more typical of his style. Tennis shoes, black jeans and a white t-shirt with the sleeves cut off.  
  
She silently studied the symbols tattooed over his arms, not having been able to see them at all the day before. It was an intricate pattern, and she wondered if they had some specific meaning. Certainly they would mean something considering they would be there for the rest of his life. Something she'd have to ask him later. . . At the very least a conversation starter.  
  
"I'll contact you once you've landed," Gibbons was saying. Ari glanced up to look at him, having drifted into her own world for a moment there. "Hernandez'll fill you in with the rest of the details en route."  
  
She nodded absently, her mind still threatening to wonder to each and every region of thought save for the one she needed to think about. They were quickly ushered to their seats and she buckled up, shifting uncomfortably in the leather seats.  
  
She watched intently as Hernandez and Collins climbed on board and then the jet was sealed up. Hernandez spoke quietly with the pilot before finding his own seat. Collins sat down next to her, with Xander and Hernandez directly across.  
  
Once everyone was settled, the engines cut on and they were heading for the air.  
  
* * *  
  
Ari stood quietly contemplating the information she had been given. According to Hernandez, she and Xander were to infiltrate Coleman Schaffer's Base as a couple from up north looking to get into some deals on a larger scale. They were given all the necessary ID to prove their residency, and several phone numbers to give Schaffer in case he decided to check up on them. The numbers would be re-directed back to secure lines that the NSA had full control of, with agents waiting to feed all the right information for Schaffer.  
  
Now all they had to do was find a way to get into to contact with Schaffer or at least Carletti. She half turned, looking up at Hernandez as the door way closed and he nodded his head one last time toward the herself and Xander.  
  
With a less than energetic sigh, she glanced at her partner and rolled back, balancing on her heels for a short moment. She carried with her a single bag, a navy blue vinyl duffel inside which lay a few changes of clothes and anything she may need.  
  
"So where do we start?" she questioned, tossing the bag over her shoulder, one hand clasping the strap in a firm grip. It was definitely cold in Virginia, she decided. A native of California, she much preferred warmth and sunny days at the beach to anything even remotely cool.  
  
"First we find our place for the night," Xander replied without missing a beat, shouldering his own bag and glancing about at their surroundings.  
  
They had landed in a small, local airport not far from the city of Richmond. A large sign with peeling blue paint stood over a single brick building at the end of the runway reading CHESTERFIELD COUNTY AIRPORT.  
  
The place wasn't too far from civilization, but far enough out of the way not to be noticed. It was mostly for small aircrafts, and probably not used to seeing anything as sophisticated as the NSA's sleek, compact model jet.  
  
"Gibbons already arranged a place," Xander continued, walking toward the tiny building.  
  
"Where at?" Ari asked, keeping steady pace by his side. She shivered slightly in the cold air, praying that wherever they went, it had a damn good heating system.  
  
"Doesn't matter, we're not going there."  
  
Ari paused, a quizzical look crossing her face. "But why. . .?"  
  
"Just a hunch," Xander replied.  
  
When he offered no further explanation, she pushed ahead. "A hunch?"  
  
"Yeah, something like that," he answered, glancing at her over his shoulder. "What's the matter?"  
  
"I just don't like being left out of the loop, that's all," Ariana returned rather indignantly. "The partner does imply a mutual relationship. I think I deserve a little more of an explanation than 'just a hunch.' I've got just as much staked in this thing as you do, you know."  
  
"Okay, fine," he acknowledged with a shrug. "I figure as long as their worried about inside information getting out, we might as well not take any chances. Is that good enough?"  
  
Ari frowned, but nodded anyway. "Any of those agents. . . You know them?"  
  
"Yeah, a few of them."  
  
"Do you think they would have fed Schaffer information?" she inquired, keeping her voice low as they neared the main building and more people started to buzz around them.  
  
Xander didn't answer for about a minute, and just when Ari figured he was set to ignore her, he said quietly, "If they did and they're still kicking then we're probably dead as soon as Schaffer sees us."  
  
"Oh." Ari said the one word in as much of surprise as shock for the bluntness of the statement. She hadn't really thought of it in those terms, and she voiced that opinion.  
  
"That usually applies to everything in one situation or another," he said. "I'll call a cab, just, uh. . . act like a tourist or something."  
  
"That shouldn't be too hard," Ari replied in mock seriousness, rolling her eyes as he held the door open for her.  
  
The place wasn't much on the inside, a few desks and what looked like some offices toward the back. Some old pictures of small airplanes covering the walls, names, dates, and other memorabilia of the like. Maybe twenty people at the most were hanging the inside, and the great majority of them seemed to be pilots themselves. There was a banner hanging over the front desk advertising air tours of the surrounding areas.  
  
She spent a few minutes looking around before Xander called to her from across the room. Ari took a deep breath, realizing suddenly that there was no turning back now. She was here, about to begin something she had to finish. She started across the floor.  
  
CHAPTER SIX  
  
"I'd like to book a room."  
  
Xander and Ari stood at the front desk of an average, small county Days Inn hotel.  
  
The guy behind the desk looked like a typical country drunk, red in the face and obviously on an alcoholic buzz. The man was a little shorter than average, forty-five years or so in age, and just a tad bit on the overweight side of the scale. He smiled crookedly at the two of them and pulled out a worn, faux-leather bound book. As he opened up the large book, dust flew in all directions. Undeterred, the man retrieved a thin tip sharpie with a chewed up cap and looked up at them expectantly.  
  
He winked at Ari and then nodded to Xander. "Looking for a honeymoon sweet?" he inquired mischievously.  
  
Xander rolled his eyes. "Just give us a room," he returned agitatedly.  
  
The man blinked and nodded, seemingly sobered by the look Xander was currently giving him. "I just need to see an ID and I'll set you up."  
  
Xander reached into his back pocket and removed what appeared to be a well- worn driver's license. A picture of himself rested neatly beside the name 'James Walton' as well as fake address and date of birth.  
  
Tongue in cheek, the man wrote down the information, squinting at the card before handing it back to Xander. "All the rooms got a bed, a two-seater couch, table, and a TV set," the man informed them. "Bathroom with a shower and towels and all that," he added, turning to get a key from a set of hooks behind him. He asked Xander how many nights he thought they'd be down there and Xander just shrugged.  
  
The man didn't seem to care much, handing him the key and indicating the number printed in white on the side of thick plastic keychain. "Right up the stairs and to the left," he said, closing his books and tossing it back beneath the desk.  
  
Ari followed her partner up the stairs and into their room. She tossed her bag next to the television set in the corner and sat down on the single bed in the room.  
  
The room was just like the man downstairs had described it; a single bed and a couch with a television sitting in the corner. The place looked like it hadn't been dusted in ages and the TV looked like an original model. There was a small bathroom on the right hand side of the room, the only other door in the entire 'apartment.'  
  
The bed had an old spring mattress, and she could already feel the hard metal poking through parts of it. "They all only have on bed?"  
  
"Apparently," Xander answered, sitting down tiredly on the short sofa. "Don't worry, it's yours, I'll take the couch."  
  
"I wouldn't have it any other way," she joked. She glanced at her watch. "It's only five, shouldn't we be doing something?"  
  
"According to Gibbons Schaffer'll be hosting some kind of party tomorrow night. That's when we'll see about this drug thing. Hopefully we'll be able to talk him into something."  
  
"And until then?"  
  
"Until then," Xander relied, "We don't have any plans."  
  
"How does Gibbons contact us if we're not wherever he wanted us to stay?" Ari questioned, leaning back on the bed with her feet hanging off the end, her arms cushioning her head.  
  
"He'll figure it out," Xander answered. "Besides," he said, reaching into his jacket and removing a small, silver cellular phone. "He is right fond of these things."  
  
Ari nodded, and the two of them were quiet for some time.  
  
"Were you. . . scared at all? On your first mission, that is?" Ariana inquired tentatively, her eyes half closed as she stared off into space.  
  
He glanced over at her, almost startled by the question. Xander shrugged. "I didn't get much choice."  
  
"You didn't train with the agency," Ari acknowledged. "You did that actions, sports thing?"  
  
"Yeah," he answered, laughter coloring his tone for the first time since Ari had met him. "One hell of an adrenaline rush, I'll tell you that. Not quite like getting shot at and blown up though."  
  
"I saw one of your tapes once. . . You, you stole some guys car and drove the thing of a bridge. That parachute thing was awesome," she said, smiling. "I thought you were crazy!"  
  
"So did a lot of other people," he replied with a wink. "Unfortunately that's what landed me here."  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"It was either work for Scarface at the NSA or jail time. Considering my options. . ." he trailed off with a shrug.  
  
"I didn't know that," Ari commented, her brow furrowed.  
  
"The NSA isn't all about fair play, kid."  
  
"Kid?" Ari repeated, eyebrows raised as she propped herself up on her elbows. "I'm hardly a kid, Xander."  
  
"Maybe not, but you're still green as hell," Xander returned.  
  
"I'm trying to fix that," she replied, not sure whether to be offended or spurred on by the comment. "I'm gonna take a shower," she said, stretching tight muscles before standing up and heading for the bathroom.  
  
CHAPTER SEVEN  
  
Xander lay back on the small couch, only have registering the sound of the shower running in the next room, the sound muffled by the now closed door. He yawned, shaking his head in an attempt to clear his head. He'd barely slept an hour the night before, and he could already tell this mission wasn't going to be anything in close relation to the word 'fun.'  
  
He rolled onto one side, closing his eyes and relishing the darkness. This was the last place he wanted to be right now. But Gibbons wasn't much for choices that swung in his favor, either.  
  
Shifting his weight awkwardly on the tiny sofa, he tried to find a comfortable position and gave up after several moments. Nothing new, after all.  
  
Despite the discomfort of the position, within moments exhaustion and stress caught up with him, dragging him downward in an uneasy sleep.  
  
* * *  
  
NINE MONTHS PRIOR  
  
"Relax. Why are you so worried, hmm? You, the calm and collected one," a soft feminine voice joked, a distinct accent coloring her voice.  
  
"It's just a feeling," Xander replied. The woman smiled wryly and wrapped one arm around his waist as the two walked slowly down the crowded street.  
  
"A feeling," she repeated, leaning into his warm embrace. "And tell me, Mr. Cage. What does this feeling tell you?"  
  
"I don't know," he answered, looking down into her knowing gaze.  
  
She raised her eyebrows and laughed. "There are no problems. Not when we are together," she said warmly. "When this is finished. . . we will go somewhere. Anywhere, I don't care. A break from all this. Just us, you and me."  
  
"You know, Yelena," he said, tapping her nose lightly with on finger. "We'll have to find a way to ditch Gibbons."  
  
"I don't care about the government," she returned, an impish glint in her dark eyes. "They'll dare not interrupt me once I've started something," she whispered the last part, so that he had to lean forward to hear the words.  
  
"Well aren't we a naughty little spy tonight."  
  
"You wouldn't have it any other way."  
  
* * *  
  
Ari turned off the shower and shook the loose water from her hair, running her hands through it slowly. She toweled off and looked at herself in the mirror, wrinkling her nose at the dusty thing. She wiped a clear spot in the center with a paper towel, glancing down as her stomach growled.  
  
She grabbed her jeans and the rest of her clothes from the counter where she'd left them and quickly slipped into the fresh clothing. "Well, I guess somebody should go and get some food," she mused to herself as she stretched, feeling refreshed and ready to go.  
  
When she stepped back into the main portion of the room, the soft sound of snoring met her ears. She smiled as she stood in the doorway, watching her partner sleep, only half lying on the short couch. "Guess that decides who goes for the food," she said absently. She walked to the closet next to the bed, opening it in search of some extra linens. Finding a spare blanket, Ari draped it over her sleeping partner before slipping into her shoes.  
  
* * *  
  
"Yelena?" Xander questioned, opening the door to the diminutive apartment. When she didn't answer, he tensed, his earlier feelings of unease suddenly coming back to haunt him.  
  
Relax, you're overreacting, he thought to himself. Please be overreacting.  
  
Somewhere in the back of the apartment, something large moved. He called for Yelena once more, and was once again rewarded with only silence.  
  
Wary of whatever dangers may lurk inside, he gripped the black grips of the silver handgun and set it for standard bullets. Xander edged cautiously inside the room, back to the wall as he stared forward into the darkness.  
  
He reached out and flicked on the lights, making sure to stand far enough in the shadows so as not to be easily seen himself. If anyone was in there, they already knew he was in the apartment, no need to make himself any more of an open target.  
  
Something crashed down behind him, and he glanced backward in reflex, cursing as someone from the other end of the room used his surprise to get off a shot. He rolled forward, the bullet just barely missing its mark. Before he had time to retaliate, something hard collided with the back of his head, sending him reeling toward unconsciousness.  
  
* * *  
  
Ari quickly paid the guy at the counter of the fast food restaurant, if it could be called a restaurant. The teenage country boy behind the register smiled at her and slid a white paper bag across the counter top. Ari wrinkled her nose at the grease already staining the bottom of the bag. Well, food was food, she supposed.  
  
She grabbed the bag with one hand and walked back out the door. The sky was painted a dark gray, storm clouds looming in the distance. "What a beautiful day," she said shortly as a light drizzle of rain started to fall over the landscape.  
  
* * *  
  
Consciousness slowly returned to his aching body, the darkness still creeping at the edge of his vision. The first sensation that met his senses was a throbbing pain emanating from the base of his skull, spiraling outward through the rest of his head.  
  
He rolled over onto one side, one arm instantly holding his ribs as a surge of pain seared through his chest. Xander shook his head, leaning forward on his knees and bracing himself against one hand to get his balance.  
  
"Yelena," he whispered, forcing sound from his throat as he looking ahead into the darkness. The night was black as pitch, and eerily still as he listened for something, anything that might signal life.  
  
Staggering to his feet, Xander stumbled forward. "Yelena!"  
  
"You don't have to worry about her anymore," a voice said from the darkness.  
  
He spun on his heel, regretting the motion as his vision swam. Half falling backward against the wall, Xander squinted forward, trying to locate the source of the sound.  
  
"Where the fuck is she!" Xander shouted at the unknown presence.  
  
"Long gone from here," the voice returned. The voice was low and gravelly, distinctly male and strangely. . . familiar.  
  
"Answer! Where the fuck is she!" Xander stared into the void, unable to sense the other's presence. "Goddamnit, where is she!"  
  
* * *  
  
Ari dug in her pocket for the key to she and Xander's temporary 'apartment,' the fast food back still clutched tightly in one hand. Finally reaching her goal, Ari withdrew the key and unlocked the door, pushing it open with her foot.  
  
She set the back on the bed and glanced over at her partner, a frown creasing her fair features. "Xander?" she questioned softly.  
  
He was lying on his side, back to her, and the blanket had fallen to the floor in a heap. Even from the doorway she could see the warm sheen of sweat glistening over his tanned skin. He jerked suddenly, mumbling something that Ari couldn't make out.  
  
She walked forward slowly, leaning over him. His mouth twitched as he whispered something, a name as far Ari could tell though one she didn't recognize. Yelena?  
  
"Xander," she said, one hand on his shoulder in an attempt to wake him. "Xander, wake up," she said more sternly, kneeling down next to him. One hand brushed against his cheek and without warning he sat bolt upright, breathing heavily and staring straight forward.  
  
"Xander?" Ari questioned, both hands on his shoulders now. "Xander, talk to me," she said slowly, trying to gain his attention. He was shaking like a leaf. "It was just a dream, Xander. Listen to me. It's Ari."  
  
"Son of a bitch," he murmured, his head resting against one fist.  
  
"Are you all right?" Ari asked worriedly, eyes narrowed in concern.  
  
"Yeah," he answered, shaking his head in an attempt to clear it. "How long have I been asleep?" he asked, making a desperate try to keep his voice steady.  
  
Ari glanced over her shoulder at the small digital clock on the table. "About forty-five minutes," she replied. She walked back to the bed and removed a bottle Coke from the greasy back and handed it to him. She sat down on the couch beside him, hands resting on her knees.  
  
"Is that anything you want to talk about?" she inquired quietly, looking up at him with her cool emerald gaze.  
  
"No," he answered without precedence. Too quickly for her to dismiss it, but she put her own questions aside for the moment.  
  
"Why don't you go take a cold shower or something?" Ari suggested. She nodded toward the bag still sitting on the bed. "Dinner's ready when you're done. We don't have much time before we have to head out of here tomorrow."  
  
He didn't answer her, just took a deep breath took her suggestion to heart.  
  
* * *  
  
TO BE CONTINUED. . .  
  
4/25/03  
  
Author's Notes: There's another set of chapters underway :D We're almost to their first interactions with Schaffer and the lot, which will start to really unfold in the next set of updates. As always, read and review and let me know what you think. Thank you to my reviewers, love you guys, and hope you enjoy this set of chapters. There are probably more typos in this one than in my last chapters, but I wrote the great majority of these at about two o'clock in the morning. lol I'm posting them anyway, but I'll probably go through and edit them sometime and fix all the errors. Just let me know what you think!  
  
Don't forget, Read and Review!  
  
Thanks,  
  
-FlameImmortal- 


	4. Chapter 3

Disclaimer : ** [Default Chapter] Page **  
  
Rating : R  
  
* * *  
  
TITLE : Y451  
  
BY: FLAMEIMMORTAL  
  
CHAPTERS EIGHT-TEN  
  
* * *  
  
CHAPTER EIGHT  
  
Ari sat on the edge of the bed, leaning forward and pulling on a black high- heeled shoe. She stood up and tested her weight on the shoes, wishing she'd had a broken in pair with her. New shoes weren't the most comfortable things in the world, especially not heels.  
  
"Are you almost ready?" she called, using a small compact mirror to check her makeup. She did look a show tonight, she mused.  
  
Ari looked down at herself, dressed in a low cut black top with silky see- through lace sleeves, a slim crimson red and black skirt that fell just below her knees and slit up the side almost to the top of her hip. Fishnets adorned her long, tanned legs.  
  
"I've been waiting on you," Xander replied, walking out of the bathroom and shrugging into a leather jacket that looked like it had seen more than its fair share of punishment. "Party's in a hour," he said, glancing at the table where the small cellular phone still lay. "Gibbons is taking his time for once."  
  
"Xander," Ari said impatiently, arms crossed over her chest.  
  
"What?" he asked, turning to look at her.  
  
She smiled as his eyes widened considerably. "Well, what do you think?" Ari questioned, turning in a quick circle for his viewing pleasure.  
  
"Damn," he said, nodding appreciatively.  
  
"Glad you like it," she returned, winking at him.  
  
He shook his head and reached for the cell phone just as it let out a low- pitched beep. "Perfect timing, Gibs," he said absently, flipping it open deftly to reveal a small set of keys and a miniature color LCD display.  
  
"I thought that was a cell phone!" Ari exclaimed, surprised to see Gibbons' face staring out at them.  
  
"Turn on the television," Gibbons instructed. "Channel twelve."  
  
Frowning at the odd command, Ari walked over the old TV set and flicked it on, turning the dusty dial to the right until the number 12 was at the top.  
  
The television popped to life with a newscaster and red bar lining the bottom of the screen. LIVE - CHANNEL 12 NEWS was written in capital letters in the corner of the screen with the name Eric Martin along side. Martin, the newscaster, was standing in front of what appeared to be (or have formerly been) some kind of hotel.  
  
Xander raised his eyebrows and Ari just shrugged, watching as Martin started speaking in barely-concealed-panicky voice.  
  
"Just twenty minutes ago," Martin was saying. "This AmeriSuites Inn exploded in a fiery mass of destruction. Firefighters and police are still working to put out the flames. The explosion occurred in a fourth floor room. So far, only two bodies have been found though neither of these have been identified. Several others suffered minor injuries, but there are no further known fatalities."  
  
"Gibbons. . ." Ari began softly, slowly turning her head away from the television. "What was the name of the hotel we were supposed to have gone to?"  
  
"You're looking at it," Xander answered for him. "Damnit, Scarface."  
  
"I knew you'd take the initiative to get yourself a. . . better place," Gibbons said, looking back at them seriously.  
  
"Fuck," Ari swore, sucking in a quick breath. "Who. . . was killed in that explosion?"  
  
"Nobody was killed," Gibbons explained. "The NSA has agents working out there now, disguised as police, etc. But this way whoever planted the explosion is satisfied that you're dead."  
  
"Who else knew we were supposed to be there? They knew the room number, floor number. . ." Xander said.  
  
"Supposedly only the three of us, and Hernandez and Agent Collins."  
  
"Are you sure this line is safe?" Ari asked, turning the TV off with disgust. "I mean, by the looks of this, you're leak isn't on Schaffer's end. Unless you've got a whole hell of a lot more to worry about that you thought."  
  
"We have considered that, Agent Versailles," Gibbons answered.  
  
"Considered?" Xander echoed the words, staring at the tiny screen incredulously.  
  
"This line is perfectly secure," Gibbons assured them. "Shouldn't you be getting ready to leave?"  
  
"Wait a minute," Xander interrupted. "What the fuck aren't you telling us, Gibbons?" he demanded.  
  
"Just do your job, Triple X. We'll take care of the rest. Once again, you're going in there for information. Just all the other agents we sent into the Base. Give me the coordinates of your location," Gibbons instructed, waiting for one of them to continue.  
  
"Fuck you, Scarface," Xander muttered under his breath. "We'll figure out what the hell is going on. But first we need to know everything on the home front. If we go in there without knowing all the facts, our chances of survival aren't worth shit."  
  
"Just give me your location," Gibbons repeated.  
  
Xander looked at the device for a minute, then glanced back to meet Ari's unwavering emerald gaze. Ari shrugged, crossing her arms over her chest and taking a deep breath.  
  
"We'll call you," Xander said, closing the small, computerized device in his hand. "Let's go."  
  
* * *  
  
Gibbons stared at the computer monitor sitting on the desk before him, frowned, and sat back in his chair, hands laid over each other in his lap. He looked sideways at Hernandez, who stood up against the wall, his own hands draped into the pockets of his suit pants.  
  
"That might be the last we hear from them, Gibbons," Hernandez said slowly, blowing air through his lips and rubbing the bridge of his nose with his index finger and thumb.  
  
Gibbons just nodded, reaching up to turn off the monitor, showing only muted static now. "Xander's smart enough for this. Versailles is new but she can handle herself."  
  
"You didn't tell them nobody else checked in with us after they came into contact with Schaffer. . . did you?" Hernandez asked, eyes narrowed slightly as the realization finally became fact in his mind. More than just a speculation. "He was right, you know. Going in there without all the information they need. It could get them killed."  
  
"The only information we have is what we've managed to get from Ileitha MacPherson," Gibbons responded after a beat, looking up at Hernandez with a serious expression.  
  
"She hasn't told us shit, Gibbons," Hernandez said pointedly. "And you know it."  
  
"We might have to cut her loose."  
  
"You can't do that," Hernandez countered quickly. "Not with the possibility of her seeing them. . ."  
  
"She's never seen them before," Gibbons replied, pursing his lips for moment. "MacPherson has no reason to recognize any of them now. We made sure that it would work out that way from the beginning. My superiors are starting to ask a lot of questions. We can't hold her and sate their curiosity at the same time. We just have to hope that they can anticipate that action. They will deal with it."  
  
"Or get killed," Hernandez said. "If there were any other way to do this. . ."  
  
"Then it would be done that way. This is too touchy, Hernandez. You and me, that's all they've got right now," Gibbons continued.  
  
"What about Collins?" Hernandez questioned.  
  
Gibbons took a breath, pausing before answering the simple question. "Collins has been spending a lot of time with Mark Douglas, hasn't he?"  
  
Hernandez nodded, already knowing exactly what Gibbons was getting at. "You never paid much mind to your 'superiors' before, Gibs."  
  
"I never had to," Gibbons replied, giving a short laugh. "My. . . 'superiors' are just figureheads, you know that. All they do is pass the bill and take the credit when things go in their favor. When things go sour. . . They don't have a fucking clue what's going on. Must be the foreign policy guys."  
  
"Normally that would be funny," Hernandez commented, shaking his head in wry amusement. "But something tells me Xander Cage is not going to be a happy camper for very long."  
  
"He'll deal," Gibbons said. "You know he can handle this, Hernandez."  
  
"I'm not doubting his ability to deal with the situation, Gibs," Hernandez assured him, running his tongue along the side of his mouth as a nervous habit. "This is one fucked up job, Gibs, I gotta tell ya."  
  
"How's that, Hernandez?"  
  
"She's green as hell and he's out of his fucking mind right now," Hernandez laughed ironically. "We have no way of following their progress without getting nailed from upstairs, not to mention the fact that we haven't got a goddamn clue whose fucking us over at every turn."  
  
"That's how we play the game," Gibbons returned, shrugging once. Just a small motion that displayed a lot more than would ever be said about the anxiety felt.  
  
"Fuck, Gibbons," Hernandez muttered with a windy sigh. "What now?"  
  
"Now we start playing hardball on the home front," Gibbons replied. "Now it's time to play."  
  
CHAPTER NINE  
  
"Right here, this is the place," Xander said smoothly, sitting up in the back of the cab.  
  
The driver pulled over to the curb and then glanced back at them. "You come to this part of the city in the middle of the night?" the driver laughed. "There is nothing here, not even night clubs. I don't know what you're looking to find."  
  
"Don't worry about us, we'll be just fine," Ari returned, pushing the door open as Xander dropped a small roll of bills into the driver's extended palm.  
  
The drive raised his hands in submission. "Hey, I don't give a fuck where you go," he answered. "Long as I get my pay."  
  
"You've been paid, now get out of here," Ari said, closing the door. She swore under her breath as the cab pulled away.  
  
"What's the matter, don't like cabs?" Xander joked, following her down the sidewalk.  
  
"As a matter of fact," Ariana answered. "I don't." She paused when he raised his eyebrows. "I grew up in farm country. We didn't have cabs."  
  
"Yeah, you had cows, right?"  
  
"That's not funny, Xander," Ari said, shooting him a look that would have spelt death in any other circumstance.  
  
"Hey, relax," Xander countered, laughing. "I don't own any cabs."  
  
"Shut the fuck up, X," Ari returned, smiling in spite of herself. "So how do we get into this place? What did he say in that damned. . ." she murmured to herself. "Warehouse?"  
  
"1603 Crescent Avenue in the warehouse district."  
  
"Abandoned warehouse district," Ari corrected, looking around. "There it is." She pointed straight ahead of them. "Looks kinda dead, though."  
  
"Somehow I suspect most people invited to this part don't come in like we're going to," Xander replied, wrapping one arm around her waist and kissing her cheek. He leaned in close to her, lips pressed against the back of her neck as they neared the warehouse. "If we get separated," he whispered. "Just remember we're hear to find shit about Schaffer. If you can get close to him, do it. And keep the drug front going."  
  
She giggled for show and smiled, leaning into his embrace. "Watch your ass," she mouthed, looking up into his eyes.  
  
* * *  
  
"Who are they?"  
  
A lone man sat in a short, black faded leather desk chair, staring out several computer displays, a keyboard resting in his lap. He wore a pair of black denim jeans, ripped at the knees and a white tank top t-shirt. Long, red hair was pulled into a short ponytail at the back of his head.  
  
The man, startled at the suddenness of the new voice, jumped visibly.  
  
"Jesus, what the fuck!" he exclaimed, swiveling the chair around to look at the source of the voice. "Oh, shit, Cole. Christ, you scared the shit outta me, man."  
  
"I asked you a question, Alex."  
  
"All right, all right," Alex replied, shaking his head. "Have a look at screen three, Mr. Schaffer," he instructed calmly, leaning back in his chair with his sneaker-clad feet sitting on top of the console. A large screen to the right of the monitors illuminated to show what played on one of the monitors.  
  
The screen displayed the inside entrance to the Base from inside the warehouse. Two people, a man and a woman were currently 'discussing' their admittance to the heavy hitter placed at the entrance.  
  
"I don't know who they are, but I'd sure like to get a piece of that ass," Alex said, staring at the close up on the screen.  
  
"Look them up in the database."  
  
"You want to go through FBI or something?" Alex questioned mockingly, fingers already tapping away at the keyboard. "Hmm. . ."  
  
"What have you found?"  
  
"Nothing really. Girl don't have any criminal records, not a cop either," Alex said, almost speaking to himself as the computers displays fed through his mind in a series of nearly undecipherable numbers and letters and codes.  
  
"There's nothing on them but a DMV record on her. Ariana Versailles. . ." he read the name aloud. "She's clean."  
  
"What about him?" Schaffer questioned, still watching the screen. The two seemed to be making little or no headway with the guard. Well, that was what the man was paid for. Otherwise he'd be dead.  
  
"Well-hell. . . He's a different story altogether," Alex said. "Xander Cage. Fuck, I've even heard of him."  
  
"From where?"  
  
"Fuckin' action sports guy. Crazy as shit, if you asked me. But he's pulled some awesome stunts. Nobody's heard much from him for the last though. Nothing big. But he hasn't made any jail time either. No way he's a cop, not after the shit he's pulled before."  
  
"Glad to know you're a fan," Schaffer commented. "Tell the guard to let them in. I wouldn't mind talking to them myself."  
  
"You don't think their any more of those agents, do you? I mean, hell, they don't look like any of the other guys that have been sent in here. And what's his face didn't give you anybody's profile that looked like them. Besides. . . didn't you already fuck up those two guys in the AmeriSuites hotel?"  
  
"That's already been taken care of, yes," Schaffer answered. "We'll see. They don't look like agents, but one never can be too careful. Even those who are not working for the government can be just as nasty. One tends to make his fair share of enemies in this line of work, after all, Alex."  
  
Alex nodded. "Tell me about it. I seen some serious shit around here, Cole." He paused, picking up a slim little microphone from the console and speaking into it. "Let 'em through, Larry. They're clean."  
  
Schaffer turned his attention back to the computer screen, watching as the guard, Larry, stepped aside and let the two through the single doorway that led down the stairs. Down the stairs and into a whole other world.  
  
"Keep things running up here, Alex," Schaffer said quickly, turning on his heel. "Tell Larry to go ahead and close the doors for good tonight. We don't need any more unexpected company. But you never know, these two may prove. . . useful anyway."  
  
* * *  
  
"I don't like this, Xander," Ari said quietly through clenched teeth as they walked down a long flight of stairs. The stone steps spiraled downward, lit only with candles in small carved alcoves.  
  
"At least we're in now," Xander answered, glancing around at their surroundings. "It's like something out a fucking horror movie."  
  
"Don't say that."  
  
* * *  
  
"Well, this is a party, isn't it?" Ari said softly, staring out at the crowd of people. The lights were dimmed low, fluorescent colors spilling out over the undulating bodies in the center of the floor. A band played something distinctly heavy metal on the far side of the room, electric guitars blaring undecipherable words through stacks of speakers. Behind them, a magnificent display of pyrotechnics was shooting sparks in all directions. The noise so loud that one could hardly themselves think.  
  
"Let's get a drink," she said, running a hand casually through her short hair, smiling at one of the patrons seductively as they passed by. She picked up her partner's hand and led him toward the bar, still looking out for Schaffer or anybody else that seemed important.  
  
Xander leaned up against the bar as Ari took a seat, ordering them both a drink. In moments, the bartender slid her two glasses across the counter. They slid to a stop just in front of them, and Ari lifted hers to her lips and took a small sip before taking in her companion's distant appearance. "Are you all right?" she questioned, concern edging her voice as she set her glass back on the counter with a small clink of ice.  
  
He didn't answer her for a short span, thinking on how similar this place was to another. . . The people, the music. Only one thing missing this time.  
  
"Yeah," he replied, picking up his own drink. "Keep your eyes open," he said, looking down at her. "I'm gonna take a quick look around this place." He pushed away from the bar easily, leaving his glass half emptied on the counter.  
  
Ari watched him disappear into the crowd, pursing her lips.  
  
* * *  
  
TO BE CONTINUED. . .  
  
7/25/03  
  
Author's Notes: All right, two chapters this time and. . . "I *am* still alive!" I know it's been absolutely forever on the updates but I've been busy this summer and these have actually been nearly ready for some time now, just never quite. . . completed. But, anyway, here they are.  
  
Read and Review!  
  
Thanks,  
  
-FlameImmortal- 


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